


Centerfold

by olddarkmachine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Celebrity Crush, Dirty Talk, First Dates, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), ahaha i mean i guess, at least i guess dirty talk lol, centerfold!Shiro, common man!Keith, following tags for Part 2 which earns that E yall, one of these is not like the others XD, or rather
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-23 10:32:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14330580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/olddarkmachine/pseuds/olddarkmachine
Summary: Normally, Keith wouldn’t give anyone the time of day if they were the kind of person that would pick up hitchhikers. He knew about stranger danger, thank you very much, and he knew that those kind of people were predisposed to being serial killers.But today didn’t seem to be normal, and for once, the universe seemed to be apologizing for all its wrongs. Even if he ended up being murdered, he would probably still need to thank someone, because leaning over the center console and fixing him with a silver gaze, was an all too familiar face. One that Keith had committed to memory if only because he was certain that was exactly what the dictionary meant by the word ‘perfect.’One, that Keith had just jacked off to that morning. Twice.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This hits the ground running and will eventually earn an E rating. But right now Part 1 is sitting at a good and solid M. Remember when I said 911 was going to be my trash fire fic? I lied.  
>  ~~forgive me father, for i have sinned~~
> 
> EDIT: Check out Shiro's centerfold, done by the ever amazing Andy [HERE](http://mondaijo.tumblr.com/post/173915362349/commission-for-theolddarkmachine-for-her-sheith) :DDDDD

Low in his gut was the fizzling crack of a bursting star that tickled at the back of Keith’s navel as he ground his teeth around a soft gasp. It was a sensation he’d grown quite accustomed to ever since finding the steady grey gaze that he was currently pinned under. Heart hammering at the back of his ribs, he continued to keep hold of the burning silver that watched him as his own hand dragged his orgasm from his very core.

In a perfect world, the person above him would be the one getting him off but Keith would take what he could get.

Besides, he’d always had one hell of an imagination.

A sharp, pointed smile cut itself into the corner of his mouth as he quickened his pace, his palm pulling the burning edge up through him as that heated gaze bore into him. Of course, he supposed he could just be laying there and nothing would change that given the smolder had been captured forever within the two glossy magazine pages that he’d oh so elegantly taped to his ceiling.

Whatever, it didn’t change the fact that staring down at him, with a smile made of light and a face crafted by Michelangelo’s spirit, was the single most beautiful man Keith had ever seen: Takashi Shirogane.

Or rather,  _Shiro_.

That first time he had seen him had been a mistake. 

He had missed the swirling script of the magazine’s title, his attention caught instead by the beautiful cherry red motorcycle that had been gleaming on the cover. It took nothing more than the quick flip of a few pages to realize the mistake, but by then it was too late. Because right there, in the center of the magazine, was the actual light of Keith’s life.

He had felt every one of his insides shudder to a stop as his entire world was turned upside down by the model. The man was stretched across two pages with oiled abs that shined with sunlight from beneath a leather jacket that was placed on his shoulders. Clad in tight black jeans that sat low on his hips and left little to the imagination, Shiro had been leaning against a black motorcycle with one leg out and the other bracing him so he could leave his whole body on display.

When he’d immediately taken the magazine to the register, Keith had told himself and the bored teen at the checkout that he was buying it for the BMW S 1000 R Catalano, and not the man draped over it.

She hadn’t looked entirely convinced, smacking her gum in response before she rattled off the high price of the specialty magazine and holding her hand out for his money. The lie carried Keith long enough to for him to get home and situated in his bed with the magazine open beside him and his hand around himself.

Since, he’d made it routine to check the magazine each month in hopes that Shiro would once again be the centerfold. Much to his dick’s delight— and his wallet’s dismay— he almost always was, which meant Keith had begun quite the collection.

But with his two-toned hair style that only someone touched by angels could pull off, and a scar that somehow only made him more attractive, Keith was convinced that Shiro had walked his way straight out of his very sinful dreams and who was he to deny himself that kind of beauty.

He was a good person. He deserved to appreciate those wide set shoulders, the size of those arms, and the way those full lips seemed to quirk just so at the edge to expose a pointed canine.

A canine that he was so certain would leave the most delicious impression on his skin.

His hips snapped up into the halo of his fist as he attempted to swallow down another groan shaped by the spreading burn of pleasure that had begun to stretch outward from his core.

Still holding the unmoving stare, Keith could almost feel the way those large hands would drag heated lines over his skin, tracking his body with unwavering attention. He could feel the soft flick of a tongue across his nipple that would accompany a low chuckle, the brush of it cooling the newly wetted skin. Keith could practically hear how deep his voice would be, with the slight curl of a growl as he would drag his lips down the center of his chest, over his stomach and then—

Keith’s cry tore unbidden from his throat as he came in his fist, warmth slicking his knuckles as heat lightning ran itself down to the tips of his toes with a force that had them curling into his comforter.

“God,” he breathed, riding out the ebbing waves of his orgasm with a loosened grip as he finally tore his eyes from the silvered gaze that had held him captive. Admittedly, he probably should be embarrassed by how quickly he was able to get off now that he had the centerfold over his bed.

But with that face as inspiration, could anyone really blame him? No one would have stood a chance.

Waiting for his pulse to lull itself back into normalcy, he lazily reached for the tissue box that had a permanent home on the floor just next to his bed. Quickly wiping himself clean, Keith adjusted his boxers so they fully covered him once more. Surveying his shoddy cleanup job and deeming it worthy enough, he let his head fall back against his pillow with a soft  _thump!_

Staring up at the spread that had started it all, Keith traced the line of Shiro’s easy stance and his hungry smile. Everything about the model exuded a sense of ease, almost as if the pose and the look were completely natural. Like Shiro often found himself in the middle of the desert, leaning against a $20,000 bike with a bottle of baby oil and a camera. Something about the effortlessness of it all held the appeal, because even though Keith knew he was untouchable, everything about the model screamed that he wasn’t.

Which, was probably why he was a regular in a magazine with “Fantasy” in the title, but that was neither here nor there.

What really matter, were those stormy eyes that stared down at him expectantly as a silent judge of all the debauchery the centerfold was an unwitting muse for.

Maybe, if Keith had any shame, he would feel embarrassed about the fact that he got off to magazine pages more than he ever had with anyone he’d ever met. He could admit that maybe, just maybe, this crush of his had gotten a touch out of hand. Then he could possibly do something about the growing stack of magazines in the corner of his room and try to actually meet someone that could lend him a hand other than his own.

The problem was, of course, that he didn’t have any shame.

Which was how he found himself already getting hard once more as he dragged his purple gaze along the terrain of Shiro’s abs.

Flicking his eyes towards his bedside clock that proudly read  **8:35am** , he made a decision.

By his calculations, he had ten minutes before he would absolutely need to be out of bed if he wanted to make it to work on time, which was more than enough.

Licking a slick line across the bottom of his smile, he got comfortable and pushed his hand back under the band of his boxers.

***

Keith was fucked.

This had to be some sort of karmic retribution for getting off twice that morning. He’d gotten too greedy. He heard the universe and it’s obvious objections to his libido, and now he was stuck on the side of the freeway in the middle of the desert still five miles out from town.

Honestly, he shouldn’t have been shocked since things had been going too well, and he’d been in too good of a mood, but that didn’t stop the spike of panic as he’d felt the stall beneath him before his bike had begun to slow down of its own volition before stuttering to a stop.

Sighing again, he tried once more to start it back up only to be met with its sad wheeze that was a sad cry from its usual sexy purr. Keith had known he had been pushing his luck with his alternator but he hadn’t thought the old girl would betray him like this. She had been the best thing he’d had in his life and the only thing to never let him down.

Until today.

_Figures._

Pulling his leg back over the seat with a grunt, Keith eyed the road as he followed it’s long stretch out towards town. It was a long expanse of concrete that always looked so inviting when he had two wheels beneath him to carry him across it, but now looked nothing short of ominous. Heat lines twisted the distance before his eyes, turning the town in the background into a wiggling painting of melted greys and blacks. A drop of sweat rolled down the back of his neck and disappeared beneath the collar of his motorcycle jacket, reminding him in the least helpful way, that it was fucking hot.

Thrusting his hand into his back pocket, his fingers closed around the solid rectangle of his cellphone as he poured every ounce of prayer he could muster into the hope that it wouldn’t read exactly what he knew it would. Dragging a steadying breath past his quickly drying lips, he pulled it from his pocket, thumb already pressing the home button to bring the screen to life.

In a twist that didn’t surprise him at all, he had no service.

“Shit,” he huffed as he ran the palm of one of his driving glove across the slick of his sweat at the back of his neck while thrusting the useless phone back into his jeans.

There were— as far as he could tell— three options open to him.

The first, was to just fry under the sun. (A solid option that he would heavily consider.)

The second, was to wait and see if anyone would drive by. (A terrible option that would just be option one but with high hopes.)

The third, was to attempt to make the trek on foot. (Which, was just option one, but moving.)

“This is fucking fantastic,” Keith muttered as he screwed his eyes shut to the bright light of the sun as he pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. It wasn’t like he didn’t know he would just need to suck it up and walk until he got close enough to town to pick up some signal from the cell tower. Honestly, it could be worse, and he was well aware of that.

But that didn’t make it suck any less.

Dropping his head back, Keith opened his eyes upward to the endless light blue of the sky above him. He noted bitterly that there wasn’t a single cloud marring the perfect stretch of azure.

“What’s a guy got to do to catch a break?” He asked angrily, shooting his question directly to the universe. After a moment of obvious silence, he continued, if only because it helped ease some of the tension from within his chest to just yell up at the sky.

“I won’t do it again, I swear,” he tried. “No more morning solo missions. I’ll be a good boy. I’ll get to work.”

Another silence, accompanied by a world weary sigh. The universe probably saw through that blatant lie.

“Fine! I’m going, god,” Keith huffed as he turned his attention back to the glittering asphalt and the town that was so, so far away. “But when I get roasted and become vulture food, you’ll be sorry!”

For added effect, he shook his fist up at the sky.

Whether there really was something out there in the great beyond listening to him, and whether that something really took his threat to heart, Keith didn’t know. What he did know, was that his protests were suddenly answered by the distant sound of a fast approaching car. Turning quickly on his heel, he had just enough time to see the solid black body of a sleek SUV that looked like it cost more than some of the houses around town.

Not just some, but most.

 _Who the hell is that_ , he thought as the vehicle began to slow as it drew closer, finally coming to a stop right in front of him. Keith’s own confused expression was reflected back at him in the dark tint of the passenger window before it started to creep downward.

Time itself sputtered to a halt as the glass slowly revealed the driver, who was looking out towards him with a friendly smile.

Normally, Keith wouldn’t give anyone the time of day if they were the kind of person that would pick up hitchhikers. He knew about stranger danger, thank you very much, and he knew that those kind of people were predisposed to being serial killers.

But today didn’t seem to be normal, and for once, the universe seemed to be apologizing for all its wrongs. Even if he ended up being murdered, he would probably still need to thank someone, because leaning over the center console and fixing him with a silver gaze, was an all too familiar face. One that Keith had committed to memory if only because he was certain that was exactly what the dictionary meant by the word ‘perfect.’

One, that Keith had just jacked off to that morning. Twice.

“Need a ride?” Takashi “Shiro” Shirogane, said with a voice filled with concern and a roughness just this side of deep that Keith couldn’t have even begun to have imagined. It was enough to send his brain into overtime as it tried to catalogue the sound of it for future use.

 _Sorry, Universe_.

Standing there under the burning heat of the sun and the burning gaze of the model, Keith tried to wrap his mouth around any words that would save him from looking like a complete dumbass. Any words that weren’t “fuck” and “me,” of course.

He must have stood there looking dumbfounded for a minute too long, because a line of concern buried itself deep between the Shiro’s eyebrows as he leant further against the divider.

Keith also filed away the way his bicep strained against the hem of his sleeve.

“You alright?” He followed up, unaware exactly what it was he was asking.

Couldn’t he see that Keith was so very, very far from alright? Because at any moment, he was probably going to wake up, stretched across the burning asphalt as a buzzard attempted to make his entrails his extrails. Then he’d have to cure the universe for the cruel joke of ending this heat stroke induced dream before he found out what it was like to straddle Shiro in that leather driver’s seat.

A low chuckle snapped him quickly from his thoughts as Shiro’s smile widened and sent a single arrow straight through the meat of his heart.

“Stupid question, I know. I’m sure you aren’t out here for fun,” his words were colored with bright mirth as he gestured his metallic hand towards the bike behind him. “It’s a pretty bad spot to breakdown.”

The way he said it almost sounded like he could empathize, like Keith thought the model would ever be stuck on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere.

“Yeah,” he breathed, finally finding enough of his voice to get something out. Shiro’s shoulders relaxed at the sound of it, a steady thrum of relief coursing through him at finally getting some form of response.

“Want a ride?” He asked, repurposing his original question as he dragged his gaze over what he could see of Keith.

The answer, of course, was yes. He did want a ride. But something told him the ride Keith was thinking of currently was not the same Shiro was asking about. Still he should say something.

“Are you going to kill me?”

 _Smooth_.

Heat burned in his cheeks as he bit down on his lip as if that would stop the words from getting out, but it was already too late. A boisterous laugh echoed around him as Shiro began to shake with it, his eyes crinkling at the corners as his smile widened into an opened mouth thing. It would have quickly been added to the mental folder Keith was quickly compiling of the man if the moment hadn’t been turned sour by the embarrassment that was zinging through his veins.

“I mean—“ he started, not even quite sure what he was going to say to take it back.

_New plan, Universe, please just strike me down._

“No, no, I get it,” the words came between the spaces of his laugh. “I’m a stranger offering a ride. It’s a valid question.”

Bits of his laughter fell away until it dried up completely, the light of it never quite leaving the sterling of Shiro’s eyes as he fell into contemplation. Being trapped on the receiving end of his stare was something else entirely when it wasn’t trapped within the confines of magazine pages, and Keith could feel his blood starting to run hotter the longer he stared.

For a moment, he was certain the model could see straight down into his core.

“I’m Shiro,” he finally said with a shrug.

 _I know,_ Keith immediately thought, quickly swallowing the words before they could escape on his tongue. Even he was aware the implications if he said as much, and he, for one, had hopes to play it cool.

At least, as long as he could manage.

Shiro’s brows arched upwards as he waited, expectant but not pushy. It was enough to make his heart flip itself upside down.

“Keith,” he said bluntly. “I’m Keith.”

So much for being cool.

“Well, Keith, we aren’t strangers anymore, and I don’t have any plans to kill you.” There was that laugh again. Honestly, Keith wasn’t sure he ever wanted him to stop.

“So,” Shiro’s smile sparked with the light of the hot desert sun. “How about a ride?”

Under his skin, skipping through his veins, Keith could feel the ominous pulse of a lightning storm rolling in. It felt too good to be true, which was always a sign that it was, but pinned beneath that hopeful look, Keith couldn’t find it within himself to care. Clearing his throat, he finally nodded.

“Yeah, alright,” he said, offering his best smile and trying to ignore the way his heart stuttered as Shiro’s widened. Turning toward his bike to bring it over to the car, Keith threw a last word over his shoulder.

“Thanks.”

Whether it was intended for Shiro or the universe though, even he didn’t know.

***

“ _So I’ll see you tomorrow?_ ”

The words swam around his mind as he dropped himself down onto his bed, bouncing slightly as he landed square on his back.

When Shiro had finally gotten him to the body shop, he dropped him off with a soft smile, a new number in his phone and the promise of dinner the following night. Or rather, that Keith would buy him dinner the following night.

It had made for a long day filled with the distraction of a bright laugh, a brilliant smile and moonlight colored eyes. At one point, Hunk had taken him off his current project and pointed him towards his own bike.

“Fix her up, and then go home, buddy. You’re pretty useless today.”

Any other day Keith might have been offended.

But today had proven it was anything but another day.

Sighing loudly, he looked up at the ever present stare that watched over his bed, noting that the glossy pages hadn’t even done Shiro justice. If it did, it would have caught the dark flecks that peppered the silver of his eyes, or the way the right corner of his mouth pulled higher than his left, or the way his mouth was the same color of crushed rose petals.

The model had been a force of nature, swooping in and tearing everything apart with soft, sweet words and tempered gazes in the mere 15 minutes it had taken for them to get from where Keith had broken down to the garage.

Yet in that 15 minutes he’d managed to pack a lifetime, until Keith felt he’d known him just as long by the time he was climbing out of the passenger seat.

Breathing in, Keith held onto the air as he stared up at those grey eyes, letting the burn in his chest ebb away into that in his lungs. It wasn’t until his vision began to swim that he finally exhaled, his mind clearing with the single hush of air.

Tomorrow he was going on a date with Takashi Shirogane.

Scratch that.

Tomorrow, he was taking Takashi Shirogane on a date.

The sudden realization of it hit him with all the force of the black SUV that had saved him from becoming road kill.

_Holy. Shit._

_*************************_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I mention this part earns the E?
> 
> EDIT: Check out Shiro's centerfold, done by the ever amazing Andy [HERE](http://mondaijo.tumblr.com/post/173915362349/commission-for-theolddarkmachine-for-her-sheith) :DDDDD

“So are you going to tell me who it is?” Pidge’s voice was pitched towards fabricated boredom in a practiced attempt of not spooking Keith into silence.

His roommate, best friend, and occasional devil on his shoulder had had enough time to figure out what she had deemed the Kogane Kode.

_Yes, Keith, with a K because in this house we appreciate alliteration._

Just about 16 years of time, in fact.

Being best friends had been an inevitability for them. In the small town of Garrison, population of 352 lonely souls, your friends were chosen for you based solely on destiny and the year you were both born.

Their friendship, as it turned out, had been born from a playground run in. Pidge had thought she’d finally found a quiet place to let loose her soda bottle rocket. Keith had thought he’d finally found a quiet place to get away from the other kids that liked to remind him he was only in the their desert town because that’s where the foster system had kicked him to.

One fizzing explosion later, and they’d both found solace in their own version of the Losers Club.

Since, they’d been each others rocks through awkward middle school years, high school letdowns and early 20s woes. It had only made sense when they’d decided to move in together. They knew the worst of each other, and with Keith’s time spent at the garage and Pidge’s at the community college, it just really seemed to work.

 _Red and Green against the world and all that_.

Cutting his gaze towards her reflection behind him in his closet door’s mirror, Keith watched her as she feigned indifference with her legs curled beneath her and a magazine spread across her lap. Pidge had learned long ago that the less invested she seemed in any of his problems, the more likely he seemed to open up about them.

What neither of them would admit that they both knew Keith only ever opened up about something when he was truly ready, indifference or not.

It was nice of her to pretend all the same, though.

“Is it Lance?” She continued thoughtfully, not looking up from the pages of the December issue of one of Shiro’s magazines. It was the one with red leather, a green Ninja H2 SX SE, and a well worn Santa hat.

Keith dragged the tip of his tongue along his bottom lip as he recalled the spread, and the wicked curve of Shiro’s smile.

“Who?” He asked around a sigh as he pulled gently at the front of his black muscle tee, hoping that the soft waves in the fabric looked more stylish than wrinkled beneath his red leather jacket.

“No,” Pidge mused as her honey gaze traced over the centerfold, ignoring his question. “It wouldn’t be Lance, even you have better taste than that. Hunk, maybe?”

Pulling his fingers through his hair, Keith gave his onyx waves a quick tussle before letting them fall back in a careful curl that framed his sharply carved features.

“Pidge, he’s my boss,” he growled as a stray lock popped up at his crown.

“Well there aren’t too many eligible bachelors in town, Red, and I’m running out of options here.”

He palmed at the offending bit of hair, eyebrows coming together in irritation as it just sprung back into place with each pass of his hand.

“It isn’t anyone from town,” Keith finally said after a moment of silent struggle. The admission hung between them before Pidge tore her gaze away from the pages of the magazine, eyes filled with question as she cocked her head.

“An out of towner, huh?” A slow smirk turned the corner of her mouth upwards as she raised a hand to push her glasses up further on her nose. The way the light lanced off the frames reminded him of a cartoon villain ready to do some damage.

“He must be a good catch for you to pull out the good jeans.”

Ignoring the quip, Keith turned away from the mirror, spreading his arms out to the sides in a casual shrug.

“How do I look?”

The answer, was hopefully good. Dates were a foreign thing to him, something he opted to avoid in the name of focusing on work. Truth be told, he never quite understood wasting that kind of time on something that was more likely to fail.

 _Everyone leaves in the end, Pidge_ , he’d whined one night after too much whiskey.

 _You think that might just be your abandonment issues talking?_  She’d shot back without any fire.

It resulted in the only real fight they’d ever had, and was subsequently the last time his best friend brought it up, even though they both knew she was right.

It wasn’t like he needed to admit it though.

“Almost like you just walked out of one of these magazines,” Pidge smiled as she held up the magazine. Heat flushed over his cheeks at the compliment as he eyed the cover, quickly tracing the lines of the printed grin he’d grown all too familiar with.

“So you really aren’t going to tell me anything about this guy?” She asked, snapping him of his careful study of the holiday special.

“Nothing you need to know. He helped me in a pinch, I offered to buy him dinner as a thank you.” Dragging his fingers through his hair once more, he raised his shoulder in a shallow shrug that he hoped would be enough to sate her curiosity.

“There’s really nothing to tell.”

Suspicion turned her expression stormy for just a passing moment before it cleared, turning into bright teasing as she pointed upwards towards the ceiling.

“Well whoever he is, I feel bad for him. He’ll never live up to your wet dream.”

Heat erupted across his cheeks, painting them with a faint flush at the dig. If only she knew just how wrong she was.

Biting down on a retort that would give him away, Keith leapt towards her, tackling her down and digging his fingers mercilessly into her sides. After some struggle resulting in a fit of shaking laughter from them both, Pidge rolled easily from beneath Keith, leaving him to sit up on his bed as he watched her walk towards his door.

“Enough, ya lug,” she laughed as she raised a hand in a dismissive wave. “I’ll leave you to continue primping for your date.”

“Shut up, Green,” he called after her as he rolled his eyes at her retreating frame.

“Love you too, Red,” she tossed over her shoulder, the curve of her smile glinting before the door clicked shut, separating them and leaving Keith alone with the silence of his room. Heaving a sigh, he fell back, landing with a soft thud against his mattress as he caught the unwavering stare of the poster on his ceiling.

Stomach knotting around itself, Keith bit into the meat of his lower lip as his mind outlined the plan for his night.

 _They’re_  night.

At the time when he’d laid them out the evening before, he had thought they were just the right shade of romantic. Just enough to lay the groundwork for something more. If something more was even a thing that Shiro would want.

But now, sitting in the unending wait between being ready and the time to leave, he couldn’t help but feel the sharp sting of doubt.

Who was he to think he deserved someone like Shiro anyway?

The loud chime of the doorbell shattered his thoughts as he bolted upright with a shock of panic that forced his spine straight.

“I’ll get it!” He cried as he jumped up, tripping over the heel of his own boot as he threw the door open. It wasn’t a long hall between him and the front of the house, but it felt an awful lot like a green mile as he forced himself down the stretch. Hand clutching at the corner as he swung himself around it, he felt the sudden plummet low in his gut as he saw the door opened wide to a set of wide shoulders and an easy smile.

Freezing at the edge of the hall, he watched as Pidge turned to face him, her own grin splitting her features with bright mischief.

That look, meant trouble.

“Do you want to come in?” She asked, not bothering to look away from Keith as she directed her question to the model at their door. There was a brief pause as he watched in abject horror as Shiro opened his mouth to answer before he started to shake his head as he pushed his way passed his roommate and grabbed at Shiro’s arm.

“No, we really have to get going,” Keith said quickly as he steered them both towards his motorcycle that sat at the back of the driveway.

The larger, more rational part of his brain told him to focus on getting out of there unscathed.

The smaller, less rational part short circuited around the knowledge that his entire hand didn’t even span the width of his date’s bicep.

“Don’t wait up!” He called into the night, only to be met by a loud laugh before the front door closed loudly.

Letting his hand linger for just a moment on the soft leather of Shiro’s jacket, he finally dropped it as he grabbed for the extra helmet he’d balanced on the seat earlier that day.

“She seems nice,” the model offered, his voice warm with the light of his smile as Keith thrust the black plastic into his hands.

“Seems is the operative word,” Keith managed lowly, pushing the words off his tongue as he tried to keep his heart from escaping with them as he watched Shiro examine the helmet closely before tugging it. Heat pooled in his gut as he dragged his gaze across the black leather of Shiro’s riding jacket, over the expanse of soft grey fabric that stretched across his torso, and down the length of the fitted denim that hugged his legs. Standing in his driveway, he looked every bit the model that was pinned to Keith’s wall and for just a moment he wondered if he really had died out there on the highway.

A flurry of vibrations rippled across his skin as he pulled his hungry gaze away as he picked his phone from his pocket, looking down only to be met by a single message from Pidge.

There, stretched across the screen was nothing but a long line of emojis.

A smirk.

A tongue.

And a whole lot of water droplets.

***

“Are you going to kill me?” Shiro asked, voice wrapped in laughter as he repeated Keith’s own question from the day before. Admittedly, he could see where the model might be worried. It hadn’t quite occurred to him what it would look like when they left the diner with their two to-go orders and headed out towards the vast emptiness of the desert.

In fact, he was sure he’d seen enough horror movies to know exactly what this looked like, especially now that they were pulling up to what would look like an abandoned shack.

Well, technically it was, but it was so much more than that. At least to Keith.

To him, it was his favorite place in the world.

“No, at least I don’t plan on it,” he said over his shoulder as they eased into a stop just outside the dilapidated hut. Dust and dirt settled around them as Shiro pushed away from Keith’s back, leaving a hollow coolness where his chest had spanned as he got off the bike.

“Well that’s good to know,” he laughed, the sound of it carrying through the night air as he pulled the the helmet off, shaking his bangs quickly before handing it back towards Keith. Taking it carefully, he looped the strap over the right handlebar before taking off his own and adding it to the left.

A hush fell over them as he pushed himself off the seat, pulling it open and reaching in to grab their dinners. He knew exactly what that quiet entailed, the silent awe of it rolling across his skin and set him at ease.

It was the same kind of unabashed peacefulness that had washed over him when he’d first found the shack in a fit as he’d run from his foster home for the umpteenth time in search of literally anywhere else to be.

There, he’d truly discovered his love for the night sky.

Keith knew what it was that Shiro would be seeing now, with his gaze turned towards the heavens and his eyes shining with starlight. He’d be looking up at the single best view of the unending space stretched out above them.

It was the single best view outside of being out there amongst the stars themselves.

At least, that’s what he assumed.

“So,” Keith started as he turned from his motorcycle, brown bags in one fist and two cans of beer in the other. “Welcome to my favorite place.”

Saying it now felt anticlimactic as his pronouncement was met by nothing but silence and the hard line of Shiro’s shoulders as he continued to look up at the sky with his back towards him. Doubt mired his plans in something dark as the stars suddenly seemed a lot less bright.

“Sorry it isn’t something better, I just thought—” He started, biting the rest of the thought in two as Shiro finally turned to face him, a smile carved so wide and bright along his features that he realized why the sky had dimmed.

It had taken all of its light.

“No, it’s great, Keith. Really,” the model proclaimed, his honesty coloring his tone and sending a healthy flush across his cheeks.

Nodding in acknowledgement, he hefted one of the beers towards Shiro, biting at the edge of his smile as he watched him pick it easily out of the air. A warm blanket of silence settled out across them as they both walked towards the shack and its cracked porch, neither saying anything as their knees knocked together as they sat.

For a brief moment, Keith wondered if Shiro felt the spasm of electricity that rocketed through his leg with the same force of a reflex, sending his foot twitching forward.

Reaching into his own paper bag, he pulled out his wrapped burger, unwrapping it halfway to take a bite, ignoring the heat of a stare on the back of his neck as they sat together in the dark quiet of desert night.

It was comfortable and settled into his bones as he let his gaze trace across the constellations stretched above them.

“So have you lived here your whole life?” Shiro asked lowly, the question burning across the space between them as Keith tracked Andromeda, cocking his head only after he’d stretched his amethyst stare over her last point.

“No, but I’ve lived here long enough for it to count.” At the edge of his vision, he saw the way Shiro’s brow arched in silent question, but he didn’t push, opting instead to just nod as if he understood.

“You haven’t lived here your whole life,” he fired back, tempting a smile as he grabbed a fistful of fries and pointing them towards Shiro to emphasize his point. “I would remember seeing a face like yours around town.”

The resulting laugh was a tempest that swept aside everything he had thought he’d known, shoving it aside to make room for something that twisted at the space suspiciously close to his heart. It was that boisterous laugh that he’d heard in the car the day before, only it felt different this time.

Now, it felt like it was just for him.

“No, I’m not from here. I’ve got a shoot here tomorrow,” Shiro said matter-of-factly at the exact moment Keith bit into his burger, sending the bite ricocheting perilously down his throat and a reel of his life before his eyes as he tried to swallow it down. Coughing around his panic, he turned a wide gaze toward the model, who took it as a question and smiled.

“I’m a model.”

_I know._

“That’s cool.” The reply sounded lame, even to his ears as he tried again. “Model for what?”

And before he could kick himself further, he shoved his burger into his mouth.

“Motorcycles, actually,” Shiro laughed again as he nodded toward their ride, her red paint shining brightly in the moonlight. “She’s a beautiful Hayabusa, by the way.”

The compliment twisted its way day with his bite as he swallowed. It only made sense for someone whose life was dependent on shoots with the latest model of motorcycle to know what his had been, and yet it still heated his skin with something undefinable all the same.

“Thanks,” he said earnestly as he returned the smile. “I restored her back up myself in high school.”

Restored was a bit of an understatement. When he’d come across the 2002 Hayabusa, she might as well have been scrap. Painstaking hours and many a mistake had led to her eventual glory that stood before them now, but it felt wrong to talk about her as if she’d been a chore.

Aside from Pidge, the motorcycle was the only other thing that had ever been a constant.

“You did a great job,” Shiro soothed as he turned a soft gaze on him that stoked the fires of his pride deep within his chest alongside something else that burnt just a bit hotter.

“Thanks,” Keith said again lamely before finishing off the rest of his burger. Crushing the wrapper in his hands, he dropped it carelessly in his bag as he clutched his beer, throwing back a throat clearing gulp before he spoke once more.

“So, if the shoot isn’t until tomorrow, why did you get here so early?”

A soft curve tugged higher at Shiro’s plush lips as he settled back on his palms. Under the starlight, he was the picture of ease as he stared up at the sky. His eyes were distant as he took in the swirling white against the black as he thought over his answer.

In that moment, with the stars in his eyes and the moon on his skin, he looked every bit as beautiful as the night stretched above him.

“My grandpa lives here. I try to get out here to see him as much as I can but unfortunately that doesn’t happen as often as I’d like.” His look turned pensive as his brow furrowed as he kept his eyes trained on the horizon.

“The old man is all I have left, and I guess I’m all he has left.”

It was a heavy admission as he turned to look at Keith, the silver of his gaze sparking with something Keith couldn’t know as he took him in. The cool desert air around them began to shift, turn thick and heavy with a cloying heat that clung to Keith’s skin as he swallowed around the sudden skittering of his heartbeat as Shiro continued.

“It also just felt like the right time, I guess.”

A second meaning seemed to buzz beneath the statement, taunting just out of his reach as he nodded, unsure of what to say as he turned his eyes back towards the desert.

“What about you?”

It was such a simple question that Keith wasn’t quite sure he had the answer for. A soft breeze kicked dust up around his feet as he tilted his head, turning Scorpius on its side.

“What about me?” He asked, rolling the question around his mouth as he peeked over his shoulder to catch the quick flash of metal as Shiro turned his look away.

A spasm rocked through his chest as he tried to remind himself how to breathe.

“You don’t strike me as the type to stick around a place like this if he doesn’t have to,” Shiro mused. The sound of fabric rustling was the only thing that alerted Keith before he felt the close proximity of Shiro’s heat as his arm brushed against his.

Flushing at the observation and easy touch, he took another swallow of now lukewarm beer, letting the bitter taste coat the back of his tongue as he tried to focus on anything else but the heady scent of leather and cologne.

Maybe he’d actually died out there on that highway, because this had to be heaven.

“I’ve always wanted to be up there, ya know?” Keith said finally, nodding out toward the desert and the black pitch that stained the sky. The phantom tickle of Shiro’s stare brushed down the line of his throat as the air electrified with something unseen.

“But it’s kind of hard to get there when you’re a foster kid without any money and without a decent enough record to get there,” he continued, ignoring the thickening of the air that threatened to stop his lungs as he shrugged.

Keith could feel the quantifiable something that had reared itself between them the day before during their ride twisting and shifting between them now, setting his nerves on edge. They tingled with the same excitement that came with standing on a precipice and staring out into the great unknown.

It thrummed within his veins as he felt the stare turn fiery, his lips parting around a quiet but excited breath.

“I’m saving up though. So, one day,” Keith smiled out towards the open plain as he raised his mostly empty can in a toast to the sky. “I’ve got a pretty good view here though, in the mean time.”

Those words he sent over his shoulder, his chin brushing across the worn red of his jacket as he was met but Shiro’s open and honest gaze.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly, not once looking away as he spoke. “It’s beautiful.”

It all started in a rush of hands and breath as the distance between them closed, leaving the world crashing down around them as they lost themselves in each other. Keith wasn’t sure who had moved first, but he wasn’t even sure he cared as he felt the soft graze of fingers as they pushed his hair back from his cheek before Shiro’s heated palm found the back of his neck to pull him closer.

Tinder sparked at his fingertips, catching the fuse that lit his insides with a fire as he followed the motion until he was placed in Shiro’s lap with his thighs on either side of his waist.

Drawing his own palms across the expanse of the model’s throat, he felt the kicking beat of his pulse beneath his hands. The erratic nature of it pulled at the corners of his mouth as he smiled into the kiss.

He’d thought of many things when he’d thought of Shiro, but he had never considered how something as simple as a kiss would end the world as he knew it.

His imagination just hadn’t done him any justice at all.

It wasn’t until his lungs screamed and light sparked at the edges of his vision that he pulled back only to be met by the stars that were caught in Shiro’s eyes and the slight part of his kiss bitten mouth.

“Want to get out of here?” Keith asked, the sound of it carried between them by nothing more than the wind.

He wanted to lie and say he wasn’t sure why he’d asked it, but even he wasn’t that good at deception. With a flush on his cheeks and a look of searching wonder, Shiro looked unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Carefully, he brushed a thumb across his cheek as he waited for an answer.

“Yes,” Shiro breathed around a smile.

***

The ride back was the longest Keith had ever had to endure in the entirety of his life, the minutes slowed to hours as his focus kept pulling back to the breath at his collar and the strong arms around his waist. It was a testament to his sheer force of will as they tore down the road with nothing but the dark desert blurring around them in muted lines of darkness before they finally reached his home.

Throwing a silent thanks to the heavens as they pulled into the driveway to see the windows dim, Keith barely took the time to get off the motorcycle and remove his helmet before he felt lips brush at the side of his neck.

“So do you bring all the boys that save you home?” Shiro laughed, the sound of it exploding sweet bubbles in Keith’s chest as he shoved the key into the lock.

“Just the really pretty ones,” he smiled as he turned back to face him, one hand on the knob as he pushed the door open.

Laughter bouncing off the bare walls of their hallways as they blindly stumbled over each other, Keith led the way back towards his room as he pushed Shiro’s jacket off his shoulders. Ignoring the soft sound of it hitting the floor, they continued their path as his hands fisted at the soft fabric of his shirt before pushing under it to drag his fingers along the ridge of Shiro’s abs.

Pushing into his room in a flurry of touch, Keith pulled himself away long enough to pull the model’s shirt over his head before placing his palm on the center of his chest.

With a barely there push, he watched Shiro fell back onto his mattress, his smile flashing hungrily with the light as he turned it on and pushed his own jacket off.

Painting the long lines of Shiro’s waiting frame with the mauve of his stare, he mentally filed away the fact that he looked great there leaning back against the red of his sheets.

“Are you just going to stand there?” He asked, returning the calculating gaze.

“Wait just a moment, don’t move,” Keith said, raising both hands in front of his face, his thumbs and forefingers coming together to create a rectangle as he held it up to frame the sight. It earned him another bright laugh that he felt fizzling down his spine as Shiro threw his head back.

There was a single, stretching second that stood between Keith and the moment of realization as he watched the way his frame shook with the sound before he suddenly stilled, eyes still staring up towards the ceiling.

A cold shock fell over him as he flicked his gaze up towards the the centerfold that he knew would be staring back down at the model in all its printed glory.

 _Fuck_.

Mouth moving around silent excuses, Keith couldn’t bring himself to speak as he watched Shiro, counting the number of breaths before he finally looked back.

One. Two. Three. Four…

“Look, Shiro—” he started, not even sure what to say when he was silenced by a hot gaze.

The look was a silver stake thrust straight through his sternum, heated by hunger. It was something a lot like the gaze that kept careful watch over his room, only that paled in comparison. That look, captured within colored ink and satin paper, was a practiced gaze made to sell.

This, was an evolution of that stare, settling directly on him filled with the unrelenting flame of unabashed want. Its fires caught deep within his core, setting a blaze that tore through his veins and licked at the inside of his skin until he was certain he would turn to ash right then and there.

Well, Keith had always wondered what it would be like to burn.

Without warning, the world tilted around him as fingers closed around his wrist, their touch gentle but firm as he was pitched forward until he found himself quickly pushed against his own pillows with warmth weighted against his chest. 

“You knew,” Shiro’s voice was a growl that made his bones pliant as he loomed over him, the width of his shoulders blotting out the view of the spread above them.

It wasn’t a question, but a sure statement.

Holding the heated steel gaze with his own, Keith swallowed down his trepidation, settling it low in the burning pyre in his gut. Ash coated the back of his throat as he held onto that silvered look before he slowly nodded his head in affirmation.

“I knew.”

Head cocking to the side, Shiro dragged his tempered gaze over his skin, cutting across the high pitch of his cheekbones and the column of his throat in search of something that only he could possibly know. Keith held onto the breath in his lungs as he waited. Waited for the moment to snap and break around them. He was never that lucky. Life had never liked him enough to give him what he wanted, and pinned beneath Shiro’s large frame, he had never wanted anything more.

Fingers twitching at his sides, they longed to reach up and just touch. His bones ached with that need as he fisted his grip in his sheets instead as he let Shiro continue to cut his gaze deep into his skin.

A devil’s smile arched its way across Shiro’s lips, turning his look into something obscene as he rest a decisive look back on Keith’s face.

“Is this what you imagined?” He finally said, voice pitched low, its edges turned rough with a growl as he leant down, placing a single wet kiss at the juncture of Keith’s jaw and throat. With a barely there move of his head, Shiro traced the tip of his nose against his skin and sent a tickle skittering down his spine that left his breathless.

A loud gasp tore through the quiet of the room, settling between them before Keith realized that the sound had come unbidden from his own lips as he tightened his grasp on his sheets.

 _No_ , his mind supplied as he fought against the roll of his hips.  _This is so much more._

“Lying here each night,” Shiro continued as he began to follow the track of his vein with heated kisses, punctuated by nips of teeth and soothed by quick swipes of his tongue. Each word he spoke danced across Keith’s wetted skin, sending his pulse skittering at an unrelenting tempo with the alternating points of burning fire and cooling air.

Fingers brushed against his skin just at the edge of his shirt as Shiro’s hands found their way beneath the fabric as his metal hand gripped at his hip and his flesh spanned across the width of his stomach.

“Do you look up at me?” He asked as he nosed at his shoulder. “Do you think about me touching you?”

“Yes.” The word was a hush as Keith’s answer spilled over his lips in the form of a moan as Shiro’s palm rode the wave of his fluttering stomach. It earned him a slow pressing of Shiro’s lips just at his collarbone, the sensation of it a brand just over his heart.

“Do you think about touching me?” Silver flashed behind the curtain of white bangs as Shiro looked up at him, the wicked edge of his smile sparking with something Keith knew was mirrored in his own hungry stare. Pausing momentarily as he committed the look to memory, he finally felt the snap of his control as his palm found the back of Shiro’s neck to pull him across the distance between them.

This kiss held all the same edge as the one at the shack, heating his blood and stealing his breath as he opened to it, drawing Shiro’s tongue into his mouth as he dug his nails against the shaved hair of his undercut.

“Yes.” Keith breathed into the kiss, before Shiro trapped the admission between them as he pressed forward again. Lightning fizzled and cracked around the edges of his vision as they both rocked against each other in search of any friction as the model’s palms tracked up his sides, rucking his shirt up and pulling away long enough to pull the black fabric from Keith’s frame.

“Shiro,” Keith gasped as he lowered himself back down, carefully trailing his lips over his newly exposed skin, lapping gently at a nipple before plucking at it with his teeth. His pace was treacherously slow as he continued to work his way down down his ribs, planting kisses along the muscle that wrapped across his stomach and pulling another low moan from deep in Keith’s chest.

Letting his hands roam out across Shiro’s back in an attempt to anchor himself as he felt the simmering spark of fireworks breaking out across his skin with each brush of his lips, his nails biting into skin as he felt teeth prick at his hip.

“Shiro,” he repeated as his hips bucked into the contact as Shiro made quick work of the his jeans, the button popping loose easily beneath his fingers.

“How do I touch you?” The model mused, pulling back and leaving nothing but cool air in his place as he tugged at Keith’s jeans, pulling him free of them before discarding them on them ground.

“Like this?” Leaning in, he nosed at the sensitive skin at his stomach, the question skittering across his length before Shiro took him in his mouth. His palms engulfed both of Keith’s hips as he held him still, eyeing him as he took him in inch-by-inch.

“Fuck, Shiro,” Keith whined as he felt himself hit the back of Shiro’s throat. A small sound of contentment vibrated around him, making his hips jerk against the clutch of Shiro’s hands as he bobbed his head, rolling his tongue along the vein of his cock.

Stars began to pop against Keith’s vision as he pressed his head further back into the pillows, all too aware of the line of fire Shiro dragged down from his hip to the back of his thigh with his palm. Pausing with his fingers behind his knee, the model gave a quick tug as he pulled Keith’s leg up and rested it atop his shoulder.

Pulling his mouth away with a soft pop, he turned his head just enough to run his nose along his thigh.

“Or maybe like this,” he growled, voice husky as he pressed a kiss to the line he’d just traced.

Suddenly, Keith’s body felt too small for his being, everything within him screaming for more, more,  _more_  as want coursed through him with the same burning focus as magma. Shiro’s touch was a catalyst that burnt away everything he had been, and in its wake it had left an emptiness that left him hungry.

All he wanted was to touch and be touched.

To ruin and be ruined.

All he wanted was  _more_.

Breath heaved through his lips as he reached forward, fingers trembling slightly with anticipation as he carefully brushed Shiro’s bangs from his eyes, clearing the hair from his eyes as he felt the full weight of his gaze.

“No,” Keith said finally, holding the burning silver stare as he reached blindly for his nightstand, his hand closing around a small plastic bottle before he thrust it towards Shiro.

“You touch me like this.”

Knowing turned his expression bright as his eyebrow arced gracefully upwards before he surged forward, folding him in half as he captured Keith’s mouth with his own. Dragging his tongue across his bottom lip, Shiro asked silent permission as Keith brought his hands up to grab at the nape of his neck as he heard the subtle click of the lube bottle open and close.

Pulling at Shiro’s lip with his teeth, he pulled him ever closer, their chests heaving together as Shiro warmed the lube in his hands as he slicked his fingers.

A shiver rocked through his very core as he felt the soft brush tracing his entrance, timid and waiting for the final permission that came in the form of Keith’s hips rolling up into the touch.

The intrusion was slow as Shiro eased a finger in, swallowing the sharp gasp that echoed from within Keith as his hips stuttered, searching for more.

“Is this how you imagined?” Shiro repeated his earlier question as he started to slowly work his finger inside him, languidly pushing and pulling as he pulled back just enough to watch as Keith fell apart beneath him.

Tempered steel was all he could see as he dug his nails into the meat of Shiro’s back.

“And so much  _more_ ,” he bit out, blanketing the word with double meaning as his hips rolled once more, earning him another wicked smile as Shiro added another finger.

Losing himself to the heat of everything that was Shiro, all else melted away as, replaced by nothing more than burning touch, flurried gasps and the steady rock of his body as he arched up into the unrelenting touch.

It felt as if Shiro was everywhere and nowhere all at once, and even that wasn’t enough.

“More,” Keith keened again as Shiro twisted a third finger in, crooking them as the pads of his fingers brushed along his his velvet heat, sending a zing of electricity across his skin and lighting the backs of his eyelids.

Working him open when single minded focus, Shiro finally pulled away, leaving Keith empty and wanting as he stared down at him with an all consuming gaze. It reflected the very same desire that burnt at all of Keith’s edges as he watched Shiro undo his jeans, making quick work of them before he discarded them alongside Keith’s on the ground.

Hitching his knees up along his waist, Shiro leant over him, teasing at his entrance as he eyed him.

“I bet you like me on those pages,” he said lowly as he ran a palm over his thigh.

The statement was blunt, giving Keith pause as he contemplated it. He did like Shiro on those pages, wasn’t exactly why they were there?

But that wasn’t all. He also liked the man before him as he was. The one whose gaze looked at him, not through him from the frozen binding of a photograph.

Before him, Shiro was everything he’d ever hoped to want with the light of the moon barely confined within his bright gaze.

Reaching out, he brushed his fingertips across Shiro’s cheekbone, reveling in the soft shade of pink that blossomed beneath his touch.

“I do,” he said, ignoring the breathiness of those two words. “But you’re so much more than just your photos.”

It was Shiro’s turn to pause as his cheeks flushed deeper, turning his skin red as his mouth formed a small ‘o’ around a soft inhale. Time froze for just a moment, with Keith’s palm on his cheek and Shiro’s hand on his thigh as they regarded each other, the twin stares kicking something loose within them both.

Then, as soon as it came, it went as Shiro turned his head and pressed a ghost of a kiss to Keith’s wrist as he pushed in.

The air ignited around them with the crush of their shared want as Keith saw everything he felt reflected in Shiro’s gaze before he pushed upwards, meeting him halfway in another kiss that burnt the world down. Gasping into it as Shiro’s hips rolled with a steady tempo, Keith tore at his back, dragging his name across his skin in red lines.

“Shiro,” Keith whispered like a prayer as he wrapped his legs around his waist, digging his heels into the small of his back as he prompted him closer still.

He felt a searing pop in his chest as Shiro thrust into him, hitting just the right angle that left him burning with the growing star behind his sternum. All else was on fire, and the smoke was clogging his lungs, leaving him gasping the simple cadence of Shiro’s name.

A sharp prick of pain tugged at his nape as Shiro fisted his fingers in his hair, tugging Keith’s head back to expose the long line of his throat as he pressed another burning, open mouthed kiss to his pulse.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

It was a quiet admission, almost lost to Keith’s moans and the sound of their skin, but it pushed the star closer still to its own destruction. Once it blew, it would surely incinerate him, but what a wonderful death, because didn’t Shiro know?

_Didn’t he know he was the beautiful one?_

Tightening his grip around Shiro’s waist, Keith pushed them both to the side, rolling them until he sat atop the model. Grinding down into him with staccato snaps of his hips, he leant in, capturing Shiro’s bottom lip between his teeth, pulling an animalistic growl from his throat.

“Come for me, baby,” Shiro mused, lips moving against Keith’s as his hand found his length. Drawing his thumb across the slit, he smoothed precum across his head before he began to pull his orgasm closer to the edge.

“Let me hear you.”

The force of it pushed him back, dropping his head back as he moaned up towards the ceiling as his orgasm rocked through him, sending burning sparks of pleasure raising across his nerves. It left his insides fluttering as he shuddered around Shiro, his hips still moving against the model’s as he arched up into him, quickly following with his own orgasm.

Keith felt the waves of it crashing against his skin, sating the burn that had left him charred as he pressed a hand to Shiro’s chest in an attempt to balance himself as he just breathed.

Pulling air between his teeth, he looked down at the man beneath him, his own stare appreciative as his chest heaved beneath Keith’s hand. This look was soft, filled with something else entirely different as Shiro reached out to him and pulled him down against him.

The kiss was soft and sweet, a chaste thing that was nothing more than the simple pressing of their lips, yet he felt the zing of it like a live wire that raced through him and down to his toes.

“Wow,” Keith breathed, voice dazed and soft as Shiro laughed.

“Better than you imagined?” He asked, voice light with teasing as Keith finally pulled away, falling to his side, shuffling enough for Shiro to pillow his head on his bicep.

“My imagination could have never done you justice,” Keith offered honestly.

Even in his wildest dreams, he could have never come up with Shiro.

The admission earned him a chuckle that rocked them both and pulled a lazy smile into the corner of his lips.

“We should get cleaned up,” Shiro finally said moments later as he began to draw languid lines up and down Keith’s arm with his fingertips.

“Yeah,” Keith agreed as he snuggled closer, showing no sign of actually moving as he wrapped a possessive arm around Shiro’s waist. Breath stirred the hair at his crown before he felt the soft pressure of a kiss.

“You up to anything tomorrow?” The question kickstarted his heart once more as he turned it over in his mind.

Slowly, he shook his head against Shiro’s chest.

“No, why?”

A hum of contentment vibrated against his cheek as Shiro’s arm tightened around his shoulders.

“Want to join me for my shoot?” There was a quiet timidness to his words that almost made him laugh given how they’d gotten there. It was almost as if he was scared Keith would say no.

_As if he could._

Cutting his glance up towards the centerfold above them, he smiled in earnest.

“Yeah,” he said as he turned to look up at Shiro, catching the soft fondness that had turned his gaze from polished silver to satin.

“I think I’d like that.”

****************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't recall if I added this at any point, but in case anyone was wondering what inspired this... [XX](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BqDjMZKf-wg)


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